Remember
by oh-the-linsanity
Summary: She plants because she doesn't want to forget. "You got a shovel in there?" (Nine/Rose, Ten/Rose)


My first doctor who fanfiction! I quite like it and hope you do as well!

Remember

.

She knows he remembers—and he'll never forget.

At first, Rose Tyler kept her distance. The explosion of the Earth might have been the end, but for her it was the beginning of their adventures. Beginnings and endings, the Doctor knew them all—she watched as his eyes darkened, expression solemn, matching his black leather jackets and dark jumpers. They had made it back to the TARDIS, and he kept his head down, nimble fingers going wild at the controls. She leaned back against the railings inside the space ship, knobby elbows rubbing against shiny chrome. Rose didn't know how many times she had to give her a pep talk before she finally opened her mouth to speak; but her carefully planned speech fell out of her mind when he looked up at her, eyes glossy. "Yes, Rose?" He asked softly.

Open mouth, close mouth. "Doctor—who was she?"

"Forest of the Cheem, she was. Life herself—and she gave it up just to save mine—ours."

Rose nodded. "Forest…" she mumbled to herself. "Hey Doctor?"

"Hmm."

"I know where I want to go next."

And judging by the smile he gave her, he knew it was someplace good.

.

Rose bounded out of the TARDIS before the Doctor even got a chance to ask her why she chose England countryside. The wind blew her hair—gold, the color of sunshine—as she shed her sweater, still running for the nearest small little town. "I'll be back before you know it!" she called.

The Doctor leaned up against the blue wooden side of the TARDIS, unaware of the dreamy smile on his face. "Rose Tyler-!"

"Oh, keep ya mouth shut! You'll like this, promise!"

She returned hours later, a bright red wheelbarrow full of bags of soil and a small plant. "Alright, don't just stand there—let's get to it!"

He eyed her curiously as she pushed the wheelbarrow lazily out of her way, its contents leaning sloppily off the left side. She patted her hands against her jeans, streaking them brown with dirt before she began tying her hair up in a messy bun. "So wha'cha think? This a good place for a garden? 'Cause I was just up in town—"

"_Garden?"_ He kicked the wheelbarrow lightly, and I creaked in protest. "Takes a bit more than a sack 'a dirt and one measly little plant to make a garden." The Doctor snapped his fingers. "Reminds me, I best show you the Tournament of Roses parade in the year 2352." He leaned in close, his coat whipping against her side as a country breeze blasted through the valley. "Spoiler alert—they paint the whole town with Roses! Pasadena never smelled so good!"

She rolled her eyes, but her tongue darted between pearly white, crooked teeth, smile spilling the prettiest giggle he'd heard in so long. "Showin' Rose a town made of Roses? Sounds a bit—"

"Perfect?"

"…cliché," she finished, that same damn endearing smile still there. "But that don't matter—we're here to plant. So grab a shovel or somethin'"

"What makes you think I've got a shovel?"

Rose pointed to the TARDIS. "There's a library, a closet that is the size of your brain, I reckon', and even a bloody bowling alley in that thing, and you're gonna try and tell me you haven't got a shovel in there?"

The Doctor looked off in the distance. "I really don't remember why I put the bowling alley in there—it never gets used! And you certainly don't play with me."

Rose pulled a face. "No one plays bowling," she reasoned before shoving him through the open doors of the TARDIS. "Now get a shovel."

He leaves her to listen to the sounds of the Earth—birds chirping, wind howling, grass rustling. She breathed in and tasted the air of summer before she nearly jumped out her pants when the doctor poked his head out the TARDIS and asked, "…how big do you consider that closet, exactly?"

She laughed.

.

"Now, one more scoop—no, not that big!"

"Rose Tyler, I have traveled across this universe, far and near. I can handle a bit of gardening, thank you very much!"

"Oi! Then why are you acting like you've never done this before?"

"I've got a bowling alley, not a greenhouse!" He finished scooping up another bit of dirt and casting it aside. He picked up a handful of soft brown rubble and crumbled it finely in his hands before releasing it into the blowing wind. "There all done. Now go get that little bush and we'll finish up here."

For once she didn't have a witty retort and instead came bounding back with the plant in hand. She dropped to her knees and went right to work, scooping and molding the hole a bit more with her hands before she carefully started extracting the plant from its pot. "…Rose bush?" The Doctor questioned, slowly getting on his knees to get a closer look as she planted the single bush in the middle of the meadow.

"Rose bush," she confirmed softly, patting the sides of to hold the roots in place. "Hand me the watering can, hmm?" he did so wordlessly and the two watched in silence as she poured the water on the dark green sapling's leaves, the sound pittering and pattering to match the rustling and howling of the Earth that never ceased.

She sighed in contentment as she stood on her feet, surveying her work. "There ya go," she lifted her head, trying to meet the Doctor's eyes, the falling sun glowing gold all around them, painting the sky soft pinks and oranges. "A Forest for the Forest of Cheem."

The Doctor grinned. "Or a garden."

She giggled. "Or a garden."

He laughed back. "Rose's Rose garden—you don't think that's cliché?"

She threw her head back into the wind and laughed harder. "S'pose you're right. But still, I think this is—"

He reached out and weaved his fingers with hers, giving her hand a soft squeeze. "-Fantastic."

.

Rose Tyler found herself going back to her garden more times than she would have liked. The Doctor always remembered, never forgot, and she wanted to do the same.

She planted rose after rose for those who had fallen, fallen for their planet, fallen for their friend, or fallen for them. That one little bush became one, than two, and before she knew it, her garden was Eden, blooming with such veracity she noticed people starting to stop and smell the roses.

One day she walked through the garden, fingers dancing against leaves as she stretched her hands out limply, dragging alongside her. She pricked herself more than once, blood coming to slither down her fingers and wrap around her wrists, dripping and staining the earth the same dark red as some of the petals shimmering in the afternoon sun.

"Rose?"

_Which one? _She thought, thinking of all those who had a rose bush planted in their name before she turned around. "Hmm," she hummed.

The Doctor spotted her wounded hand and grabbed it gently, wordlessly. He turned her palm over and sideways, looking it over carefully, before he took the pads of his thumb and wiped the blood clean. "I'm so sorry."

"Me too," she sighed before she wrapped her pricked hand around his. "But you know what?" she asked softly, looking up into his eyes, the oldest pair in time and space. "I won't forget them, because they died so that—so that we could remember. So everyone could remember."

He shoved his other hand from his pocket and reached out to the nearest bush and plucked a soft white rose bud. He picked it clean before tucking it safe and sound behind Rose's ear.

"But, Doctor?"

His fingers drifted to race lightly up and down the side of her face. "Yes, Rose?"

"Remembering hurts, sometimes," She choked out, before her head fell forward and thudded lightly against his chest.

He felt his tie grow warm with tears and his long brown coat sway in the breeze before he wrapped his arms tightly around her and whispered, "I know."

.

They kept coming back, planting bush after bush until one day they couldn't.

"Where are we going?" Martha asked, following slowly out the TARDIS. She blinked at the blinding sunlight before she recognized the dusty road and rolling waves of grass. "Hey, I know this place!"

The Doctor, a few steps ahead of her, stopped, and just listened.

"Came her all the time as a kid. There's this beautiful rose garden, right up the hill. Strange little place, but it sure is nice. I can smell them already."

The Doctor said nothing.

Martha jogged up and bumped up against him, all soft smiles and anticipation. "Did you know about it, the garden? Is that why we're here?"

"…Yes."

Martha recognized the tone, somber and sad. He was remembering. She tried changing the subject. "I noticed this woman there, all the time,-sometimes alone, other times with some bloke—never could see her face but she had hair as bright as the sun! She was always planting. Ever see her?"

"Been awhile," he sighed, before looking down and giving Martha a forced smile. "Now, before I show you the stars, as promised, it's time we stopped and smelled the roses." He smiled when she laughed, honest and true. "Ever taken to gardening, Martha Jones?"

"Can't say I have, Mr. Smith." She shrugged. "There's a time and place for everything, right?"

"Right you are! Now, let's go! Allons-y!" and she wrapped her arm around his before they ran up the country road.

.

"If you don't mind me asking, why are we planting in the garden?" she looked around, as if they were going to be caught. "It's not exactly ours."

"No worries, I know the gardener. Now," he handed her one bush, which she quickly set down, while he set the other one on the ground and grabbed a shovel. "I've got two last rose plants to put here."

Martha watched as he dug with precision, no haste. "Why?"

The Doctor stopped suddenly, leaning up against the shovel he stuck in the dirt. He looked at Martha softly, lips in a tight line. "For someone- I lost," he said quietly.

Martha's lips parted in worry as she looked around, taking in the smells, the colors; deep reds and soft yellows, all smelling so sweet. "Doctor—" She bit her tongue, stopping herself. Instead, she took two steps forward and laid her hand on his shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. "I'm sorry."

He laid his hand atop hers and offered her another tight smile. Martha stared down at the other plant. "And the other one?"

"…That one's for me."

They finished planting, without another word.

.

"Alright, Donna! We've got the whole universe! Planets, solar systems, stars in colors you couldn't even imagine! Time and space is all yours so, where to first?"

Donna watched as he pulled and yanked the knobs of the TARDIS, calibrating for whatever date and destination she chose. "Where do you think we should go?"

"Weelll," he pondered, leaning up against the controls. "You know me, I could go anywhere. Always do. Where do you want to go?"

She snapped her fingers. "I know! There's this _beautiful_ garden, right outside of London in the country. Me and Pops went there, once or twice. Never had the time to go back. Think we could go there?"

The Doctor slapped his hand against his face, letting it slide down, tugging at his skin. "I just offered you the universe, and you want to take the TARDIS _right outside London?"_

Donna huffed. "Oi, watch it spaceman! You asked me, and I told you! It's not like I could go there willy-nilly!" She calmed, her voice growing less abrasive. "It really is quite gorgeous, you know. I think you'd enjoy it. So many _roses—_and that's when she remembers. The friend he lost. "oh, Doctor, I'm sorry, I—"

He smiles softly, a chuckle caught in his throat. "Don't worry. The garden it is. And Donna?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you remembered it."

She never quite saw him smile like that ever again.


End file.
